The image that hooked me, and then dragged me into the abyss. A pink 1958 Cadillac. *SWOON*

*

In 1966, our family of six piled into 1957 Cadillac and drove from Portsmouth, VA to Santa Monica, CA, a 3,000 mile journey. I was six years old. For two weeks and 6,000 miles, I rode in the front seat, sitting on the fold-out arm rest.

*

I can't read this text without hearing the narrative in Don Draper's voice, complete with dramatic pauses.

*

Our 1957 Cadillac was black, but I think I could have settled for blue if they were out of pink. Check out the rubber-tipped bumpers on the front. I could use a set of those on my Camry Hybrid.

*

While we're on the topic of luxury...

*

Is that Betty Draper in the back seat of the 1958 T-Bird?

*

In 1974, I was forced to sit through a HORRIBLE "Driver's Safety Class" that mainly consisted of a sadistic gym teacher forcing us to watch gory films of people being turned into bloody hamburger meat via Detroit steel. As a sensitive soul, I was truly traumatized. I'd close my eyes whenever possible and then the gym teacher would screech at me to "pay attention." One of the stories was a paralyzed woman who had not buckled in that fateful day because she didn't want to wrinkle her dress. I guess society really did judge you by the wrinkles in your dress.

*

I love this caption. It's from Bing Cosby's song, "Did you ever see a dream, walking..."

*

Poor hat boy. He knows that this is the closest he'll ever come to a new T-bird. And look at those pedestrian souls admiring that shiny new thing. They're such simpletons in their plain-jane clothes. But at least they have a shot at the shiny new thing - one day - if they marry well. I'd like to caption this, "Envy."

*

Well, it's good of her to give the two Plain Janes a ride to the bus stop.

*

My husband tells me that he's secure enough in his masculinity to wear a pink shirt. Back in the day, apparently men were secure enough in their masculinity to show up in a pink Chevy.

*

Looks like Mom and Dad are driving home from a party with Timothy Leary.

*

Many of these car ads have a random plane. And Junior is playing with planes in the back seat.

*

Nobody in these ads have their eyes on the road. Maybe she's looking for low-flying aircraft. It seems to be a big problem in 1958.

*

By 1958, we were using sex to sell cars. "Come hither look?" I guess the car is inviting you to "slip into something more comfortable" such as its "smart fabrics."

*

"We knew Mildred had lost her mind when she started trying to hail a taxi from her new Chevy."

*

I've no idea what's happening here, but of course, Mother has baked goods in her right hand. OOOH, edited to add: Shari (see comment below) observed that it was The Boy in the yellow helicopter and in this shot, the helicopter is behind The Boy. He and Mother have both "landed" here.

*

That's one fine-looking car. Love the two-tone paint job.

*

More random airplanes.

*

Looks to me like someone's making a run for it. Lots of luggage there.

*

When I bought my new Camry in 2012, no one said a word about "gay silk pillows."

*

Tufted leather bench seats. Be still my heart.

*

Wait til you see this Vicuna lap robe.

*

There's the Vicuna lap robe.

*

And here's a Vicuna (still wearing his lap robe).

*

"Iridescent leather features channeled insets of darker blue." Wow.

*

My Camry has a "symphony in gray" going on, but it's a really quiet symphony.

Pink bathrooms. I love them all. I wish I could save every pink bathroom in America. I eschew the fools who decimate and destroy old bathrooms.

For one, it violates the First Commandment of Old House ownership: “Thou shalt not destroy good old work.”

Secondly, the quality of workmanship and materials found in older bathrooms can’t be replicated by the modern junk sold at Lowes and Home Depot.

I loved the 1960s. And that’s why I love my old house. It was built in 1962, and it still looks like 1962.

We purchased this house from the home’s original owner (his estate, actually) and it looks much like it did in 1962. Style-wise, this old house would best be described as a “Mid-Century Modern” brick ranch, and (be still my heart).

Soon after we closed, I started looking for Retro Wallpaper and couldn’t find a thing. Then I saw a blog at Retro Renovation about a woman who did her own “Atomic Kitchen,” I decided to give it a try in my own 1960s kitchen. It turned out beautifully.

Next, I was ready to hit the bathroom. And yes, it took a lot of time (more than 100 hours), but oh boy, what a blast! My only regret is that I’m now out of rooms to “decorate” with Retro designs!

It started with "flecking" the walls which made a big mess. I'm still finding charcoal gray flecks on the floor, the toilet, the shower curtain, etc. I used a toothpaste and a $2.99 sample can of charcoal paint to do the flecking. I dabbed the paint on the toothbrush, and then ran my index finger along the bristles, which sent all manner of gray specks flying onto the walls. I did a few practice runs with cardboard before I went crazy on the walls.

*

Using that pattern (taped to the door trim) as a rough guide, I started behind the bathroom door. I figured it was the least noticeable part of the whole room. The door came off the hinges and stayed that way for several days.

*

I used templates to draw the patterns on the walls. Spacing was random. REAL random.

*

Next step was to paint "between the lines." I used Sherwin Williams Duration paints (quart size). The colors were pink, turquoise and gray (pink and gray were color matched to the existing bathroom colors). The turquoise was a wild gamble, but it worked. The chair atop the counter helped my aching shoulders. Kneeling on the counter left me too low and standing was too high. The chair was jusssssssst right.

*

The process was rather messy. Note the dead pen in the trashcan. I killed off at least 40 pens.

*

Even in the early stages, I began to fall in love.

*

You can see how the black lines really make a difference.

*

The cacophony of retro designs created a mid-century modern masterpiece. I was very pleased.

*

As I finished up around the door (which was back on its hinges by this point), I was quite smitten with the overall look. You can still see the "pattern" taped to the bathroom mirror.

*

The turqouise worked out well. The towels were found on clearance at Bed, Bath and Beyond ($5.99 each) and that curtain, well, that's another blog. In short, it was a white curtain that I dyed turqouise (too dark). And then I bleached it (too light). And then I dyed it again (too dark). And then I washed it in hot water (just right).

*

Am I pleased with the end result? Abso-galootely!

*

I can not walk into this bathroom without a big grin on my face. The dots and the colors make me smile.

*

Even Mr. Grumpy Bear likes it.

*

When we finished, I noticed that the bathtub was smiling.

*

These are the "Atomic Balls" that I added to the pattern. They were easy to draw and looked right at home.

*

The pattern on the right is known as "North Star" and figuring out that six-point cross about drove me to hard liquor. The amoeba was easy and fun.

*

And my old favorite, the starburst.

*

Two amoebas walk into a bar...no wait, that's something else.

*

I went for a slightly different look on the wall with the shower head.

*

The whole gang.

*

I created templates to draw the patterns on the wall.

*

Shown above are the pens that survived. This represents about 25% of the Sharpies used in the project. Many gave their lives in service, and went to the great beyond.

*

For the amoeba, I used these oil-paint sharpies (fine and regular).

*

People's reaction to The World's Most Beautiful Atomic Powder Room is mixed. Some fall in love with it, and others say things like, "Well, as long as you and Wayne like it, that's all that matters."

The other day, I had occasion to dig out my 1917 Sterling Homes mail-order catalog and look for a picture of the Sterling Windemere. While I was rustling through the pages, I noticed that the words, “Hughes for President” had been scribbled on the catalog’s front cover (see below). Was this some kid, nominating his elder brother for president? Probably, I told myself.

Hughes, I later learned, resigned from his position as Associate Justice on the U. S. Supreme Court to run against Wilson in the 1916 presidential election. He put in a good showing, losing by a mere 594,000 votes.

Sterling Homes, as the image shows below, was an early 20th Century mail-order company that sold kit homes in a wide variety of sizes and price ranges. They were solid homes, built from high-quality southern yellow and white pine. The houses were sturdy and strong, and I’ve always been impressed with the attractiveness of Sterling Homes. They apparently had some competent and creative architects.